The Blood Contract
by L'Arc en Coeur
Summary: While Ciel's main goal is to investigate Alois' background, his priorities are swayed when he meets a secretive, blind girl who might have what it takes to bring back someone long lost without breaking the demon's contract.  Serious story/alt. timeline.
1. Prologue

_(Author s note_: To make this quite clear, I really don t like Ciel, and I absolutely hate Alois. I don t even really watch Kuroshitsuji for the plot, I do it for Prince Soma and Agni only. Second, due to my really shallow knowledge of Kuroshitsuji (I only know of major plot points) lots of canon points will be consciously and unconsciously broken so if you don t like non-canon stories, please don t read this. Thirdly, the time in which this story takes place is of no particular interest or importance, but it does take place in Season 2 of the series presumably a little after the latest episode released as of August 9th, 2010, episode 6 (if I remember correctly...). As such, Alois characterization is _complete _BS, because I don t know him well enough. The story itself can be considered a 'side-quest'-esque sort of thing. Let it be known, this is my 'retaliation' against things I'm not that fond of in Kuroshitsuji (lol), but there will _never_ be outright trolling in any of my text and if there is, it is for stylistic/characterization purposes only.

So, if you don t mind any of my previous biases and just want a story involving someone not as annoying and as contemptible as either Ciel or Alois, _but _involves Ciel and Alois anyway, then you're welcome to read. Also, I know I may have pissed a few fans off, but no trolling, kay? And please forgive any punctuation errors. I don't have Word at the moment and NotePad won't allow apostrophes or quotes, apparently...)

**Prologue: I, Briar Rose**

Alois looked at his pocket watch. He did not think that Claude would take so long with such a simple task, but he was, apparently, wrong; he did not like being wrong. But, after squinting through the glared windows of his carriage, the young noble saw his butler walking toward him; nothing was in his hand. Alois' eyebrow twitched and he grit his teeth, but his line-tight lips did not betray his feelings. There was a light thud as the door disengaged and Claude climbed elegantly into the carriage, seating himself opposite of his lord.

"You didn't do as I ordered."

Claude made no sound for a second or two, but his delayed response came as self-assured as ever.

"I have done only one part of numerous. What you desire will be on its way soon, your Highness," bowing his head, he gazed at Alois momentarily before raising it again. "What is a Trancey butler if he cannot perform a task with the utmost care?"

Alois waved his hand while staring out the window, evidently paying little to no attention to Claude's response through the butler's entire sentence.

"Whatever. See to it that it's done, Claude."

Their carriage began to move, the light clip-clopping of horses hooves sounded through the gold-dusted wood panels. They had only ridden a few metres before the horses made an irritated whinny and the carriage ground to a sudden halt. Alois, not expecting such a sudden stop, was almost thrown from his seat, but Claude set his master back as soon as he felt himself leaving his seat. The sharp blue eyes grew ever more malign and he glued his face to the window to see which moron had blocked his path.

"I'm so sorry..." came a soft voice from outside. Alois squinted, hoping to see a face to the voice. From what he had heard, it was probably a woman and he scoffed, but the path was soon cleared for his three drivers had once again commenced their route. As they passed the vicinity, the master caught a glance of those who had blocked his supposedly comfortable ride. Yes, he was right. It was a woman, but there was a man next to her, holding her hand firmly; the other gently against her back, guiding her. His eyebrow arched as he examined the scene. And then her head tilted upward and she flashed her eyes. They were a pale blue, paler than Alois own and they, hollow and uncertain, stared into emptiness. She was blind.

"What is this?" his voice grew high. "Which family would frivolously spend money hiring a butler for a blind woman when a simple surgery would cure her ailment all together?" he began laughing and fell back into the back cushions of his transport. "Oh, Claude. Aren't people delightful?"

He made no reply.

Ciel Phantomhive was in his study as he was usually. There was a newspaper on his desk that had yet to be touched and tea that had only been half consumed. His butler was not in his company at that moment and, while he could, Ciel had capitalized on the free minutes he had, staring out the window located directly behind his desk, contemplating the meeting that would soon occur, but his musings were cut painfully short when the sudden knock at his door broke his thoughts and left them shattered on the floor of his consciousness. He turned and, with utmost control, seized the chair he had momentarily vacated.

"Sebastian," Ciel's voice was calm.

The wooden double doors parted. Sebastian was first to enter, his strikingly pale skin contrasted against the pitch of his smooth hair. Peering from beneath the charming, though slightly unkempt bundles of hair were his scarlet eyes. He, immediately after entering, proceeded to the side, allowing the two visitors to enter without any obstacle.

Ciel rose. "Welcome to the Phantomhive estate," he said in all seriousness as the pair came forth. One was a girl. By the modern standard, she was what men considered pretty, very pretty. She had healthy skin, glowing with a slightly peach hue. Her hair was a rich chestnut and fell in thick locks about her face, which was slightly round and youthful, and shoulders, small enough to make her too delicate to touch. Her eyes, too, were of a colour most desirable. Perhaps her only flaw was the fact that she had dressed in the colour of mourning. In all, she had a look, don t touch air about her, but the beauty was that it was all utterly unspoken. After his quick examination, Ciel continued, "I received word of your arrival prior to this date, but the purpose of your visit was not revealed to me, so please, tell me why is it you request the House Phantomhive?"

The girl shook her head and smiled. She looked directly at Ciel, peering into his eyes without the slightest care as to his status. "My lord," she said with a slight, indescribable accent, "my name is Avent Faron. I was not sent here to ask for assistance. I was sent here to provide it."

"What is it you do, then?" Ciel replied, taking quick note of the second visitor who had resigned himself to silence.

"I'm what you might call a Jack-of-all-trades. I will do most anything. My only occupation is to assist."

"Haven't I heard that before..." Ciel was bothered by the description. He had no need for such a 'Jack' when he had Sebastian in his company. "Unfortunately, I have no need for assistance at this point and so I must kindly decline your offer though I hope you find a willing taker."

Avent nodded and her eyes returned themselves to Ciel's own. "I understand. I will simply return to my sender and report tonight's occurrences. I'm sorry to have taken your time, but if you would be so kind as to take this," she had been holding a small packet of papers which she now held out to the side for the other visitor to take. The second visitor was a man, perhaps a few centimetres taller than she. He had a dark shock of hair even more unkempt than Sebastian's and yet it perfectly fit his face which was slightly more youthful than Ciel's own butler's face. His eyes, too, were of a lighter, purer quality than Sebastian's, light blue like the skies with hints of compassion. The male visitor took the stack and gently placed it on Ciel s desk before returning to the girl's side.

Ciel looked at the stack and furrowed his brow, but it was not noticeable. "It's quite dirty..."

"Yes, I'm sorry. There was a little scuffle earlier and I lost my papers during the incident. I don't have another copy, unfortunately. I hope it doesn't tarnish any future relations our two parties may have."

The young earl nodded and stepped to the side to escort the two out. "I see. It s fine. Perhaps in the future I may call upon you," he said for formality's sake, "but for now I don't need anything." And then he looked up at the girl, but she was staring blankly at the spot he had once occupied. His eyes widened for only a moment and he looked at Sebastian who, from where the Ciel stood, seemed to have a subtle smile which was enough of an acknowledgment of his master's glance.

Avent's smile radiated something bright. She nodded. "I'm glad. Certainly, I hope to see more of you, Ciel Phantomhive." Her hand moved, searching for her companion's. When she found it, she held to it tightly and he turned her around and began to walk her out.

Ciel's brow had not yet eased, but he followed them as far as the doorway and had Sebastian guide them the rest of the way. Confusion still hanging overhead, Ciel wandered back to his desk and noticed the stack of papers that stared him directly in the face as strikingly as the girl did. Taking them up, he quickly thumbed through the first few pages, but realized the package had close to nothing relating to any kind of business venture. Just as he was about to set the papers aside, he noted something, a gilded seal depicting a young female rider on a horse being led by someone. Ciel touched the image and began scanning the words that made the circumference of the seal. He recognized it and he was quite surprised to have not noticed it earlier. Then the young lord reread the first line of the first notable paragraph of text.

"By order of the Queen, Her Majesty's Rose will be in service to the House Phantomhive up until Her Majesty terminates this contract."

Ciel took up the text again and began reading.

(Well, I hope I don't give up on this one like I've done the others, but hay, have fun reading?)


	2. I: Cooperation

_(Author's notes: I was really tired while making this, so I think the quality of the writing has taken a bit of a hit compared to my other stories. Sorry about that. I'll try not to let it happen again.)_

**I: Cooperation**

Perhaps a month or so had passed since Ciel had received Avent and her butler, but he had long since forgotten them. After reading the contract she had left on his table that day, he declared her services unnecessary: Sebastian was more than enough to handle any situation. So, when Ciel received notice from the Queen that he had another assignment, Avent's contract was one of the last things on his mind.

"Sebastian," the Phantomhive earl said plainly, "get my coat. We have work."

His butler was already standing by, holding Ciel's olive green trench coat which had just come off the press and ready to wear. When his lord came close enough, Sebastian dressed Ciel in his jacket and they left. Silence was all that separated them, but it was broken when, looking at the relevant papers while climbing into the carriage, Ciel began briefing Sebastian on the assignment.

"The Twilit Phantom, or so he's called, has been stealing from various museums in London. Most have been private collections compiled by various nobles. The Queen is in great distress now. Her Majesty feels her private collection is in jeopardy. She would like her priceless possessions returned and the thief apprehended before he tries again," Ciel shuffled through the papers and began reading one that caught his eye. "He tips the press of his strikes before they occur," he scoffed. "Overconfident. There's a rumor going around that he will strike tonight, but it isn't official yet since there hasn't been any published news," his brow furrowed and he bit his lip, irritated. "Unusual. If he strikes tonight, he'd have to tip off the media before his raid, but if there's no news…then he hadn't said anything. Why?"

"A mistake," Sebastian suddenly chimed in, eyes closed and smiling.

"Stop looking so overconfident. You remind me of this sloppy bastard."

"Yes, my lord."

The pair arrived at the Museum of London where the Queen's collection had been safeguarded a little more than an hour after Sebastian had led the carriage out of the Phantomhive estate. He climbed down from his seat and walked gracefully to Ciel's door, opening it and helping his lord from his raised seat to the ground below.

"Let's hurry this up, Sebastian. It's getting late; Elizabeth's been bothering me about not seeing her and now I owe her a visit."

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel took the lead, heading to the Museum doors and, just as he was about to knock, they opened and a small boy answered.

"You must be the knights!" he said, bright-eyed and aspiring. "My name is Etienne! My grandfather told me that there were knights coming. Are you here to keep the Queen's secrets?"

Untouched by the display, Ciel simply nodded and replied, "And where is your grandfather now? I have to speak to him."

"He's out."

Ciel huffed quietly. "Is there anyone else I can speak to? An adult?"

"Oh, well there's Elisia, but she's just the cleaner. She doesn't know as much about you knights as I do!"

And finally, Ciel forced a smile. "Well, your services will be of great service then. I really need to speak to Elisia right now, so why don't you lead me to her. If I need any more help, I'll be sure to come directly to you."

His ruse seemed to work. The boy's eyes shined with pride and he hurried off, leaving Ciel and Sebastian to follow. They walked past numerous collections which had all been covered up and prepared for closing, white sheets draped from every corner of every glass cabinet and container, but then there came one room that had been only half covered and, off to the side, throwing draping cloth over a large showing glass, was a young girl no more than eighteen in her years.

"Elisia!" the boy called, scurrying towards her as she descended the ladder that helped her reach higher on the glass cabinet.

"Etienne…how many times have I told you not to come here when I'm cleaning?" She picked up her skirts and met the young boy half way, making sure the buckets of cleaning chemicals weren't anywhere near his thinly shoed feet. Her hand ran through Etienne's sandy blonde hair and, in the midst of scolding him, telling him he should brush his hair every morning, she noticed Ciel and his butler. "Oh…I'm sorry. I didn't know we had guests..."

She picked herself up and straightened out her skirts, dusting off any soot she may have gotten on them, but no matter how many times her hand brushed past the tattered cotton cloth that composed her apron, nothing could remove the dirt that had left so deep a stain. Etienne was in no better condition. His shoes were barely there, torn in numerous places, enough so his whole heel was exposed. His clothes were musty and stale and had grime stains all over them. Ciel had only guessed that the child, perhaps only six, had duties cleaning as well. And yet, despite the obvious rut money, or lack thereof, had caused him, there was a shimmer in his deep blue eyes. Elisia, too, had that same glimmer of hope, although hers appeared to be flickering out with each passing day.

"I'm sorry," she repeated as she put her hands together and bowed her head humbly. "I wasn't expecting guests. I would have barred this room if I had known someone was coming."

"It's fine," Ciel replied without any real emotion attached. "I'm here to see to the Queen's private collection," he showed her the seal on the letter he had received: that should have been enough. "Please take me to it."

Elisia nodded, "Yes, of course. Follow me, please?" And she proceeded, walking through numerous corridors and moving further back into the more intimate crevices of the London Museum. Then, she stopped at an archway and pointed to large double doors, held together with some intricate, arcane lock. "This is the private collection."

"Do you have the key?"

"No. Etienne's father, the guardian of the Museum, has the key, but as Etienne must have told you, he's out on business. I'm not sure when he'd get back."

"Why wouldn't he be here? Didn't he know in advance that we were coming?"

"I'm not sure, milord. But if the Queen is concerned about the safety of her collection, even after these many years of service, I'm sure whether or not he stayed or left would have little effect on what you will be doing tonight."

The earl said nothing in reply, knowing what she had said was true. "Alright. Thank you."

Elisia curtsied gracefully and turned to leave, but before she had disappeared behind the wooden archway, Ciel called out to her. "Does the guardian of this museum sleep on the grounds?"

She stopped and cocked an eyebrow, concerned. "Yes…he does."

"I see. Sebastian," he looked to his butler who smiled at him.

"Milord," Elisia spoke, "I don't know what you're thinking, but if you believe Etienne's father's been going around stealing, you're wrong." Her cheeks were flushing red and her eyes were freshly glazed with tears. "He may not have enough to live comfortably, but he never once wanted more. He has no use…for those kinds of things, Milord. So I ask you, please, don't pursue him anymore…but if you must, don't let Etienne hear you. He has enough to deal with," her voice cracked and she bit her lip indignantly, "without you nobles coming and ruining his life even more!"

Then she hurried out, covering her eyes with her dirty, torn sleeve. Ciel's tight-lined lips had not once quivered out of shape through her entire speech.

"Let's see to it that we get this done quickly, Sebastian. It's late and I have to see Elizabeth tomorrow."

"Yes, my lord."

Night came quickly. The young earl and Sebastian were waiting three rooms away from the Queen's collection. Elisia was still inside and had been cleaning up the remainder of the museum; she had avoided Ciel and Sebastian as much as she could while she worked, refusing to make eye contact, perhaps upset with herself for crying and more so with Ciel for suggesting such a preposterous idea. But she broke her vow of silence as she passed by the two one last time, saying that she was locking up the museum for the night.

Etienne hung close to her, but his response to Ciel was much different. He smiled and waved. "Good luck, Knights! I'm going home, but remember, you tell me if you need anything and I'll come running back!"

Elisia wasted not a single word more on Ciel and Sebastian; she turned her heels and left with the young boy. The only thing that was heard was Etienne's small voice singing some old tune about knights and princesses.

Ciel leaned back in his chair slightly, listening to the loud, woody clanking that was the museum's double doors closing and the heavy metallic clicks that were the locks being secured. The noise drew his mind back to the safe. Despite being the Queen's collection, the doors were so old and brittle. He knew why the Queen would have been so suspicious, knowing the condition of the safety measures in the Museum. But, fatigue began to set in and the Phantomhive earl stayed conscious a few hours more; slowly, sleep began to best him.

"It's time to wake up," the voice was stern yet surprisingly gentle, like a doting father, only Ciel knew far better.

His eyes flickered open and he was met with Sebastian staring down at him.

"We have a visitor, my lord."

"What time is it?"

"Close to midnight."

Ciel rose from his seat and paused for a minute, listening for any signs of the intruder since no one had come by them yet. If they had, he knew Sebastian would have handled it. There was nothing but silence; it was almost deafening, but he kept listening, growing more and more attentive, so much so that his ears started ringing because the silence was audible. And then a soft thud. His blue eyes ran to the ceiling.

"He's on the roof. Sebast-!" but Ciel's order was cut short when he heard the rapid succession of thuds that followed. They streaked across the ceiling, growing louder and then softer. The burglar had just run across the roof, but the young Phantomhive noble had never met a human who ran that fast.

Looking at Sebastian, he scoffed, "Looks like we'll be here longer than I thought. Sebastian, I'm sure you can handle it?"

There was a loud crashing: a window was broken.

"Yes, my lord."

Another thud and a series of the inhumanly fast footsteps; Ciel knew that the thief was here and heading his way. His lip twitched into a sly smirk as he knew the bandit, no matter how fast, would not last a minute in Sebastian's 'care'. And then the footsteps stopped and Ciel, wondering why the intruder hadn't shown himself, stepped closer to the archway from which the noises came. Nothing.

His brow furrowed, but his face relaxed immediately when he heard the footfalls once more, but they were in a completely different location.

"Enough fooling around. Sebastian, find and follow that bandit. I'm going to the Queen's collection. You have the gun I requested, right?"

Sebastian pulled from a small chest the revolver Ciel described. He handed it to his lord, nodded, and left. Turning himself, Ciel darted toward the safe and positioned himself in between a pillar and a wall. He was in a small alcove, completely hidden from anyone coming down the corridor. He thought this was the perfect place to catch a thief and, being small as he was, he could easily slip out and apprehend whoever came by, but now it was just a waiting game.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence. He listened carefully until the incessant ringing grew so loud, he was sure he wouldn't be able to hear anything if it happened. He tapped his revolver with his finger to check if he could still detect soft noise; his hearing was fine. The resuming footsteps confirmed this. He listened, trailing the path the steps took. They were on this floor, he was certain, and they were drawing closer, closer, closer.

He slid from behind the pillar, gun ready and pointing at…air. No one. But he was certain. The footsteps had stopped so close to him. He waited, keeping his position in case the thief was merely playing games with him, but nothing could be detected. His lips curled into a grimace. And then, hope. There was a sound, but it was faint and it wasn't footsteps. The small metallic tinkering was the only noise he heard. Brow furrowed, young Phantomhive pondered where the noise came from and then he looked at the safe and approached it cautiously. Pressing his fingers against the door, he supported himself so as to not cause any unnecessary and betraying creaks when he pressed his ear against the old and rotting wood. Yes, he heard it: tinkering so faint, but so present. The thief was on the other side of the safe. But how? The cleaner girl had only showed him this route. Could there have been another?

Ciel backed away from the door and cocked his revolver, aiming at the lock, ready to shatter it to pieces and barge into the thief, mid-work. But the door flew open itself, knocking Ciel back into the pillar behind which he hid. He slid to the floor, head reeling from impact, but, despite his blurry vision, he could still make out a figure emerging from the dim light of the private collection. It observed him for a minute and then ran down the corridor.

Ciel groaned as he peeled himself off the floor and made after the thief. This time, the burglar was following Elisia's route and Ciel knew it quite well. At every turn, he could see the trailing flicker of the tattered, black cloak the Twilit thief wore to conceal himself and that flicker became a full figure as Ciel had caught the thief in the main lobby, only one room away from the exit. He held his gun up, aiming high for the covered criminal's head.

"Don't move."

The thief made no noise and stood, ready to leap away into the darkness. His watchful eyes leered beneath the numerous folds in the full body cover he wore; there was no shine in them as there was in Etienne's. And perhaps that's what drove the thief to action. With a quick motion of his hands, the thief threw a large key at Ciel's face and the noble, unprepared, barely dodged the attack, but when he regained his composure, the thief had vanished.

Ciel grit his teeth and glared viciously at the key thrown. It was a big key. Something he recognized.

"Sebastian!" Ciel cried, irritated.

There was a silence, but then the light footsteps announced Sebastian's arrival. He came from the corridor behind Ciel.

"You failed," the earl said grimly.

"I was only following orders."

Ciel, lost to the flurry of dissatisfaction, had momentarily forgotten the initial order he gave and simply growled another order, "Catch him."

"That is unnecessary."

His eyes relaxed, believing Sebastian had, as he usually did, a miraculous back-up plan, but the light clicking of approaching heels made Ciel think otherwise.

"Looking for this?" came the familiar voice.

His eyes sought the owner immediately.

"Avent."

Her shoulder length brown hair fell about her frame lightly as if some force of heaven were suspending each strand; her rosy lips arced into a smile. Everything about her would have painted the image of perfection had it not been for her lifeless eyes.

She walked forward casually, holding a sizable revolver in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. Her butler appeared from the shadows shortly after her. His blue eyes gleaming from behind pitch hair. Over the butler's shoulder was the thief, perhaps unconscious for all Ciel knew for he didn't move; in the other hand, something that looked like one of the Queen's crowns.

"You caught him…" Ciel said, irritation simmering slowly.

"'Him'?" Avent replied incredulously. She looked at her butler and nodded and the blue-eyed man immediately dropped the thief.

The black head-dress fell off the bandit's face and from underneath came the worn, long, and familiar locks of Elisia's hair. The girl let out a small yelp as she landed on her back, eyes searching for someone to rescue her.

Ciel made no motion.

"As it turns out, Etienne's father, Jacques, has been hospitalized for over a year now," she handed him some papers. Ciel read them; they confirmed her claim. "The money needed to pay for Jacques' hospitalization has been piling up and, in order to cope with the bills, Elisia decided to become a high profile thief," Avent looked at her butler. "Christian."

The blue eyed butler handed over the Queen's crown to Sebastian and then retook his place behind his master who was still smiling welcomingly.

She stepped forward again and held out a little card with an address on it. "This is where the rest of the stolen goods are being held."

"How did you manage to get this?"

The young clasped her hands together and held her gun lightly. "Interrogation. Jack-of-all-trades, remember?"

Ciel made no response to the rhetorical question and Avent understood. Her smile seemed to grow even brighter, "It's a pleasure working for you, Lord Phantomhive."


	3. II: Forever Holds His Peace

_(Author's notes: I know I've been spitting out these chapters like crazy, but that's only because I have summer break. If, by chance, this story isn't completed by the time my college starts, be aware that my posting will become more sporadic. Until then, enjoy?)_

**II: Forever Holds His Peace**

Avent had been in and out of the Phantomhive estate numerous times, relaying information to Ciel. Though the earl suspected she was capable of much more, he found no other use for her since Sebastian took care of most matters. Nonetheless, Avent never complained, seemingly content with the menial gathering chores she was given. Other than Avent there was only one thing that remained constant and that was her escort, Christian Williams.

From what Ciel had seen, Christian was a man of few words. Actually, 'no words' would have been a better description only because the young earl had never once heard the butler speak. He usually stood behind his master, one hand raised and gently placed on his chest while the other remained by his side, and waited until she had finished whatever it is she needed to do. It appeared that his only use was perhaps escorting the blind girl whenever she wished, but young Phantomhive knew better, much better. He remembered that day, two weeks ago at the museum. Christian…he was capable…and dangerous.

Ciel pocketed whatever thoughts he had about the pair and left them to slowly cultivate in the back of his mind. Only one idea was certain and that was that Faron and her butler were complete mysteries, seemingly dropped into London to resume or perhaps begin lives. But those thoughts were, still, of little importance to Ciel. The two did whatever task they were assigned and exceeded expectations; the earl had no real reason to be too wary of them, and so he kept them, continuing to give them tasks of increasing difficulty, all of which they completed.

"Then I will take my leave, Lord Phantomhive?" Avent asked politely. "It's getting a little late and I don't think I can get home if I don't leave immediately…"

"Yes. You've done what I needed you to do, so you may go."

Avent nodded, leaving Ciel a last, warm smile before taking her butler's hand and parting. Sebastian, under Ciel's order, escorted them to the front door while his master stayed in the study and stared outside at the unforgiving rain.

"Please tell your master," the girl said, not bothering to turn and seek Sebastian's face, "it was a pleasure doing business with him."

"Of course," came the dark, charming reply.

Sebastian then opened the door only to let in a swift gust of wind. Avent, despite the inhospitable weather, proceeded outside and waited on the steps under the overhanging. Her butler nodded and left her side, walking into the rain with an umbrella in hand, peering around for the carriage that was not there. He returned with a small grimace on his face and took Avent's hand again, shaking his head.

There came a small sigh and she turned around, assuming Sebastian was still behind them since she hadn't heard the front door close. "It seems our carriage has gone missing." She then turned to Christian, her mouth bent into a small, unhappy frown. "That's the first time that's happened, isn't it, Christian?" He didn't do anything in reply.

"In times like these," Sebastian cut in, "the Phantomhive estate is open to guests," he looked at Christian, smiled, and then returned his gaze to the lady. "If you do not mind, you are welcome to stay the night. I can have a substitute carriage take you home tomorrow morning."

"Are you certain? I don't think you are able to make such a call. I think we should speak to the ea—"

"It is more than fine. My lord would be more than happy to house those in need."

Christian's hand twitched, squeezing Avent's hand gently. Sebastian's eye caught the movement, but he kept his focus mainly on the other butler's master.

"I see…" she uttered contemplatively, but then came an airy, relieved laugh that seemed to fill the entire Phantomhive estate with a kind of light. "I'll have to thank the earl myself, then! For letting us stay a night. We'll try not to impose more than we already are."

Sebastian reached forward and took Avent's hand. "It's not a problem." He lead her back into the house before she let go of his hand and wandered forward a few steps, waiting for Christian to follow. The Phantomhive butler, despite being on even terms with Christian, held the door open and waited for the other to enter. It took a moment before the blue-eyed butler followed, but as he ascended the steps, he shot an ominous, wary glance at Sebastian who replied with only a smile.

"Christian…?"

Her butler hurried to her side and took her hand again.

Dinner came promptly at seven. Ciel was already at the dinner table dressed in a more casual dinner suit. Sebastian stood just behind his chair with a white cloth draped over a raised forearm. On the other end of the smaller of two rectangular tables, was Christian who stood behind an empty chair, white cloth draped over two clasped hands.

Silence separated them, cut only by Christian's sharp gaze aimed directly at Sebastian. Only silence separated them until a heavy, woody creak announced Avent's arrival. Blushing, she walked in, guided by Mei Lin, Ciel's maid. The young lady wore a white women's dress-shirt, lacy around the collar and cuffs, and a navy, high-waisted, double breasted skirt. Mei Lin stayed only as long as it took to lead Avent to her seat before stepping off to the side to help serve.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find more suitable clothing for you. It's been a while since I've had female guests of your age and so I was unprepared."

Avent's pink cheeks became a darker, more red colour. "N-no. I really appreciate this. It's truly my fault, being such a burden on you. Anything is still too much."

Surprisingly enough, Mei Lin's clothing fit her quite well. She had enough curves to fill out the spaces and, in all, it looked quite wholesome.

Then dinner officially commenced. Ciel ate in relative silence. He would look up a few times to see to Avent who, from the looks of it, appeared a little uncomfortable. Occasionally, she would take a bite or two of her food before swallowing nervously and then trying again, but eating just seemed like a mask of normalcy.

"Are you well, Miss Faron?" Ciel asked.

"Oh…" her voice peaked: she was caught by surprise, but, as she continued to speak, she became more at home. "I'm fine. Your cook did an excellent job of dinner. I was just taken away by it. Who might I ask is responsible?"

Ciel looked up at Sebastian.

"I am. A Phantomhive butler must know how to cook for guests, expected and unexpected."

"It's fantastic."

Then Ciel, holding a slice of duck just over his place, spoke up, "Is Christian not hungry? He's welcome to join us."

Avent's eyes widened. She knew it was a strange question especially since Ciel, a noble, was talking about Christian, a butler.

"Christian…" she paused.

Ciel leaned in slightly, watching her mouth carefully. From the distance, he was sure that he saw her lip twitch with discontent.

"Christian will eat with the servants."

Her hand gripped her skirt as she said this and Christian, peering down inconspicuously, caught the action and couldn't help but give a soft smile. He nodded, corroborating her claim.

"Oh, of course."

They finished the meal in silence and Ciel, looking up every so often, noticed Avent wasn't as nervous in the quiet.

Tea followed dinner, but only after the servants ate their meal. Christian and Sebastian left momentarily to the kitchen with the other servants while Ciel and Avent with Mei Lin as her guide, went to the lounge room to wait out the rest of the night before the fire.

Judging from previous encounters, Ciel had determined that Avent came from a family that spoke much more than he did and so, when they drank tea is general quiet and Avent didn't make a single motion to converse, he was certain that she was hiding something. Despite his suspicion, he made no motion to further investigate it. Not yet, at least. He let the atmosphere simmer for a few minutes under the firelight and then began his advance.

"I'm quite taken by your butler," the earl said, gently placing his teacup on his saucer, dismissing Mei Lin. "He's very charming despite his silence."

Avent smiled, taking a sip of her tea before setting down her cup too. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better. Considering how…abysmal my situation may look, he was never daunted by the challenges." She took another sip and tilted her head up slightly, apparently listening for any footsteps. "Sebastian," she started after no sound was heard, "is really charming himself, but I don't think Christian has taken much of a liking to him," she giggled. "Christian…is the jealous sort. He doesn't like anyone else waiting on me…"

"Jealousy…in a butler? That's a shame," replied the earl, hoping to provoke a response.

"Yes. Another family might have gotten rid of such a ridiculous butler, but…" she paused and her lips curved into a gentle smile a second later, "but his jealousy makes him an amazing butler. My parents kept him only because he took impeccable care of me."

Footsteps punctuated the end of her sentence and the elegantly carved double doors opened up, revealing Christian and Sebastian walking side-by-side, Sebastian with a somewhat smug look about his face; Christian, eyes seeking his master.

The two butlers took their place behind their masters. Ciel's expression didn't change: Sebastian was only missed when he was needed the most. But Avent, the earl observed, greeted her butler with a most gentle and longing 'hello'. Christian, in reply, knelt and kissed his master's hand. The earl's lip twitched and he crossed his legs, interested in a display as unorthodox as Christian's.

"Christian," Ciel smiled cunningly, "how was dinner? I hope it was something you enjoyed."

Christian rose from his position on the floor and nodded in reply to Ciel's question.

"Come now, Christian," young Phantomhive persisted, "I like to hear a response."

Christian made no motion in reply, only looked to the floor away from Avent. There was no embarrassment marked on his cheeks which were milky like porcelain. He seemed to be contemplating something.

"He won't answer you…no matter how hard you try, Mister Phantomhive," Avent finally stepped in. Her face showed no indication of malice, as pristine as it was the day Ciel first saw it, but her tone was biting and, from what the earl could tell, irritated. And yet, she carried herself with the utmost grace, her volume constant. "Christian is a mute, sadly." Her face broke into a smile. "We're quite the pair. A blind master and a deaf butler. We communicate through touch. Touch. It's one of the most primitive ways of communication; almost every animal uses it."

Ciel's smile widened for only a moment, "I see. That _is_ a very interesting coupling." He didn't even finish his tea, putting the saucer on a side table made to look like an ottoman. "Well, I'm very tired." He stood. "You two have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, but you're welcome to stay up if you want. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mister Phantomhive." Avent rose, taking Christian's hand simultaneously. "And thank you, for letting us stay. I really appreciate it."

"Of course."

The two parted ways for the night.


	4. III: Stratagem

_(Author's notes: Once again I bombard you with horribly written fanfiction. This chapter took a bit of time, but I hope you enjoy it. And let it be known, if you are dissatisfied with anything I've written, you can leave either a review that tells me how irritated you are with my horrible characterization, or you're welcome to send me a PM that, in even more detail, explains why I'm an idiot~ 3 Happy reading! ;D )_

**III: Stratagem **

Avent had a habit of waking up in the middle of the night to reach for a glass of water. Christian had not gotten it yet for he was waiting for his master to fall asleep first. She looked slightly unnerved that evening and he thought it best to stand by her side, assuring her that she was safe. But it took only a few minutes before her gentle breathing was the only noise she made and then Christian knew it was okay to leave.

He slipped past the door, closing it gently so that it wouldn't creak, but it made a soft thud as the wood reached its frame and settled. There he waited, pressing his head against the well polished lumber as if he were diving in and touching the very soul of the tree to which the wood once belonged. But then he broke away, trailing his hand against the door a little longer as he walked down the hall and to the kitchen where he would fetch Avent's water.

Each step he took was silent. Even on the stairs which were made of the same, elderly oak as the rest of the estate's wooden architecture, his footfalls were silent and there was no noise that betrayed his presence.

Just as quietly as he descended, Christian hurried to the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled it just below the brim with water. Then he turned back and began the return to Avent's quarters.

He'd reached the long corridor on which his master's room was located and he proceeded to her door, but stopped just as he had reached out to turn the doorknob.

Looking over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of the black shock of hair and ever familiar, ever ominous red eyes.

"Water for your master, I believe?"

Christian held his position and replied Sebastian's question with a hostile glare.

"You did not eat anything at dinner. Aren't you hungry?"

Christian turned away from Sebastian, looking at the door, but he returned his glance again, wary of the Phantomhive's butler and the actions he might take. As a result, he moved away from the door and held the glass, by its rim, to the side of his body.

Lips curled into a devious smile, Sebastian continued to talk despite the lack of a 'yes' or a 'no' on Christian's behalf, "You are more observant than I had intended." He adjusted his glove. "A Phantomhive butler does not like to mince words. My master ordered me to find out who you are, but it seems you already figured that much out." He peered into Christian's blue eyes which were still so hostile. "I do not like disappointing my lord."

Sebastian leapt forward and grabbed Christian by the shoulders, shoving him into to the wall behind which Avent slept, but the blue-eyed butler steeled himself and halted Sebastian's motion just before his back hit the barrier. His eyes were piercing which was unusual since they appeared so serene and so pure. But there was something, something deep within those oceanic pools that was furious, demonic, and dangerous.

Christian's hand was the next to fly. His free hand sailed in from the left in an attempt to strike Sebastian, but Ciel's butler stepped back and barely dodged the blow. Avent's servant's eyebrow twitched and his mouth became vicious. Such a showy display seemed to irritate him. If there was one thing of which Christian was certain, it was that Phantomhive butlers were built on big words and big actions without any sophistication or elegance attached.

Sebastian was wary of the glance, but had no way of inferring what his adversary was thinking. From the face Christian gave, though, Sebastian knew he was irritated.

"A true butler would never let himself lose composure," he noted Christian held the cup in his left hand, "in the face of adversity."

A flurry of white and black dove low and ended near Christian's hand. The blue butler's eyes widened when he saw that Sebastian had drawn sharp cutlery knives. Certainly, someone so inexperienced might have thought Sebastian was only trying to sabotage his attempts at aptly serving his master. But Christian wasn't inexperienced nor was he stupid. There was only one thing the red-eyed butler could have wanted to see and that was what was underneath Christian's glove.

Avent's butler's brow furrowed and he turned his body, trailing his left hand behind in a spiral motion and using the force of the spin to throw the glass, water and all, into the air. Tilting back, he had obtained a position behind Sebastian and then capitalized on the advantage, placing his right hand around Sebastian's neck and his left hand's index and middle finger on Sebastian's forehead. Christian closed his eyes for a second before opening them again and facing reality with a ferocity so dark and malign that his pure, blue eyes had forever been stained. And then he threw Sebastian forward with as much strength as the Phantomhive butler had used to push him against the wall.

The attack seemed to have little repercussions for Sebastian, though, who placed his hands on the floor as he was in the descending arc and used the momentum of the toss to hurl his legs over his body. Landing on his feet, he looked over his shoulder at Christian who now stood with the glass, full and now in his hand.

A smirk arched across Sebastian's face as he returned the cutlery to his coat pocket.

"You should get to bed. You have to wake up early tomorrow."

Christian continued his piercing gaze, but left as he heard Avent weakly call his name. The blue-eyed butler disappeared behind the wooden door and left Sebastian to leave on his own.

The Phantomhive butler turned and exited down the other end of the corridor, smirk still on his face. His eyes flashed something conniving to the emptiness.

When Christian had touched his forehead, he was sure he had felt something speak straight into his mind…

It said, "Not on my life."

Ciel and Sebastian saw Avent and Christian off in the morning and watched as they rode away in a Phantomhive carriage. Ciel stood with his cane in hand, dressed ready to leave for another job. As his two employees began to leave the Phantomhive courtyard, Ciel spoke.

"Be sure to return their carriage tonight, Sebastian," he said, monotone.

"Yes, my lord."

"And what else did you learn about that Christian Williams?"

Sebastian smiled, a scoff escaping his lips, "As far as I know, he is someone who can compete with me on an equal level."

"Like that Agni?"

"For now, like Agni."

Ciel fixed his hat and turned to look at his butler, "A human is a human is a human. No matter how you say it or what spin you put on it, a human will forever be who he is. That Christian is of no concern. We have more important issues like looking into the Trancey household history." The earl then pulled his glove higher on his hand. "So don't waste my time by playing any more games with her butler."

Then he walked out into the sunlight and Sebastian, chuckling to himself, followed.

"Of course, my lord."

The noble waited for his butler to get the carriage and then he climbed in and got started on another day's work.

Avent and Christian continued to return to the Phantomhive estate. Ciel noted no visual change in Avent's appearance, but he had no way to judge whether or not she was aware of the incident that happened the night she spent at the manor. Temptation dictated he try to keep her another night just to push his luck and see how far Sebastian could get in discovering something new about Christian, but, as his logic told him, he was too busy with work to bother with something so trivial.

"Here's your new assignment," the earl said, handing Avent a small envelope.

Avent took it and measured the size of the item she'd been given. Her full lips parted slightly and her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry, I don't understand, lord Phantomhive," she said. "This isn't an information packet. There must be some mistake." She placed the envelope back on the table and began to gently push it back to Ciel.

"There's no mistake. I've thought very well on this. This is an assignment and should be treated as such."

Her face did not seem to ease at Ciel's encouragement, but she retracted the envelope and handed it to Christian who put it in his coat pocket.

"Then, if that's all, I'll be off," she rose without waiting to be dismissed.

She reached for Christian's hand and he was just about to lead her out when the door burst open. The blue-eyed butler swept Avent off her feet and away from the door's swing, placing her gently to the side so he could see who had so rudely intruded on their meeting.

"Ciel! Ci-el!" came a light, yet needy voice followed by a tan Indian boy a few years older than Ciel himself. "Ciel! Is it true? We're going to a party?"

Just as Ciel opened his mouth, footsteps drew closer and interrupted Ciel's thoughts. "Prince!" Then came another Indian man, though much taller and older than the boy. He had looks much rougher than the young boy's, the prince's features, looks of a warrior, exuding strength. "Prince! Lord Phantomhive is obviously busy, let's come back later!" His hands were close to the prince's shoulders as if he was using a kind of energy to guide the prince out of the door, but he didn't touch the boy who appeared to have an uncontrollable, autonomous force.

Ciel cocked his eyebrow and glanced at Avent who moved closer to Christian, seemingly scared by the strangers. The earl, on the other hand, eyed his unexpected guest with little more interest as he would anyone else in the Phantomhive manor.

"You're not supposed to be in here right now, Prince Soma…" he said, exasperated. "How did you even get past Sebast—"

Ciel's butler then appeared in the doorway with a cocky smile plastered across his face. "He insisted. I was powerless."

"I'm so sorry, lord Phantomhive!" the older Indian smiled apologetically, obviously struggling to pull Prince Soma's attention back outside the room.

"No, Agni. Don't apologize. I see how it is! Ciel…" the prince's eyes started watering. "Nothing I do is going to work. Nothing I've tried has worked. I've failed!"

Then Avent interrupted. She was gripping Christian's hand tightly. "I see you're quite busy. We're just going to let ourselves out then. Christian…" Her butler nodded and escorted her out of the room and around Prince Soma and Agni.

Soma, now sobbing to himself, turned to leave as well and Agni, who apologized to Ciel once again, follow behind. With the room now vacant, Ciel put his face into his palm and looked at Sebastian through his spaced fingers.

"We'll have to bring him. If we don't, he might just kick his way through the door. And you know Agni won't do anything to hurt the prince's feelings…"

"It might not be such a bad idea, keeping a representative of India on your side might welcome some trade in Asia. It would be to the Funtom Company's benefit. And I hear there are a few Indian tea traders who will be attending."

Ciel's eyes slowly snuck back to the open window behind him. "Fine. We'll bring them. Inform Agni of this decision."

"Right away, my lord."

Sebastian left and Ciel focused his attention outside the window. He caught a glimpse of Avent and her butler just as the lady climbed into her carriage, but Christian soon closed the carriage door with a cushioned thud and proceeded to the front to take the girl home. He watched as they left the courtyard again and wondered if they could do the task he had yet to give them.

Alois Trancey , Ciel could never fathom why, was attending the gathering meant specifically for business men and women alike. From what he had heard, Trancey had no company under his name, but Ciel was not certain at that point. The Phantomhive child stood close to the wall by a pillar, hoping not to attract too much attention which was much easier here than it was at another party in London since there were other highly esteemed business men and women who balanced projects as big as his entire company. This relieved him, to say the least. For once, he didn't have to deal with the glances and the gasps, but he was aware that Alois, wherever he was, had little interest in anyone else at the gathering.

And this was precisely why, he told himself, having Avent present was more than beneficial. Not only could she keep Alois at bay for a few minutes if not hours, but since Alois had, supposedly, never encountered her before, she could milk the other lord for information.

Then Ciel spotted Avent, brown haired and blue eyed, walking through the halls, dressed in the same black gown she wore when she was doing assignments. By all means, her outfit was quite elegant and formal despite its common use, but perhaps it seemed so casual only because Ciel had seen her in it every time he saw her. By her side, leading her away from human obstacles was her loyal butler.

He held his glass filled with water and sipped it quietly, watching how his game would play out.

"Christian?" Avent said, turning her head to him. "Do I look okay?" Christian nodded, tapping her hand once for 'yes'. "That's good. Well, you know where Mister Trancey is, don't you?" To this, he tapped her hand once, again. "We'll see how well this Alois falls to a casual pass-by. Lord Phantomhive said he was older…" she giggled. "Puberty has to have set in by now. And if that doesn't work," she squeezed Christian's hand happily, "we'll have to try something different."

Christian nodded lead her to Alois. They passed close by, but when Alois failed to acknowledge the girl he had almost run over with his chariot, Christian pressed her hand gently and Avent, as a last resort, feigned a trip, hand landing, by heaven's good fortune, on Alois' shoe.

"Oh, I'm so sorry…" she apologized as Christian followed the gag, picking her off the floor and dusting her outfit gingerly.

Alois' eyes narrowed onto the girl. Her cheeks were blushing red. That voice was so familiar, he thought, and it was obvious to Christian, that he was wracking his brain for an answer to the girl's identity. And then he seemed to realize.

"Oh…I remember you," he said plainly, having only a bad memory of Avent on which to go. "You fell in front of my carriage a few weeks ago."

"Was that you?" she was genuinely shocked by this revelation. "I must apologize for that." She reached for Alois' hand, clasping it in her palms with affection. "I felt so bad because I knew I had delayed someone. I hope what I caused had no serious results on you, lord…um…"

"Trancey."

"Lord Trancey," she nodded, pulling back together the ruse with which she was supposed to blanket Alois.

"It's fine. I had no appointment. I was only heading home." He tilted his head, eyeing Christian, who refused to make eye contact with either the young noble or his butler, Claude, who stood just behind his lord. "I'm sorry. I'm the one who should apologize for that day," Alois said suddenly. "I…I'm not quite sure I know you. What's your name?"

Avent, still holding his hand, looked at him. "My name is Avent Faron." She flashed an attractive smile, one that was second nature to her.

"Ah, 'Faron', that's not a common name." He shook his head. "I haven't heard of that family either. Are you from England?"

"No." She shook her head, "I come from a Spanish noble family. I moved here to pursue my own interests."

"That's intersting, that your father would leave you to your own doings. I don't think that's too common around here."

"Of course, my father couldn't send me on my own and that is why I have Christian." She introduced her butler.

"So what is it that brought you to England?" Alois said, with no real interest in the young Faron's presence.

"I'm looking for something. I need it to…convince someone to return home with me."

Alois' eyes revealed that she had piqued his interests. "Well…I hope it goes well."

"And, what about you, lord Trancey?" Avent asked, determined to keep Alois talking.

"Me?" he scoffed. "I…my story. Well, recently…" he paused, looking at Avent's vacant eyes, then at the floor beneath the crowd of people. "Recently my father died…and as a result, I inherited his estate."

Avent gave a small gasp and Christian followed suit, bowing his head out of respect. Ciel had already informed them of this so they had to make it look as convincing as possible.

"I'm so sorry…" Avent's voice seemed to break. "You're such a strong child, to deal with such hardship…" One of her hands left Alois' hand and went to stroke his cheek. "You're a strong child. I wish…there was some way I could make your life ea—oh! I know!" Her face was beaming. "I'm currently working for a business consultation organization. Christian." She held her hand out and her butler placed in her lace-gloved hand a small business card. "I know how hard it is to run your own business, so please, take this." She held out the card to Alois. "If you _ever_ need anything, just talk to me."

Alois chuckled, seemingly amused. "I'm sorry, but this is unnecessary. I have no business."

"Oh? I'm sorry. That was quite forward of me. Then what is it you're doing at a business convention?"

"Like you, I'm here to find someone."

"Really now?"

"Yes. Ciel Phantomhive, actually. Of the Funtom Company. I'm sure you've heard of him."

"I have. My company is currently providing him with counsel."

"Oh, fantastic! If you don't mind, if you happen to see him again, please bring him to me!"

"What is it, might I ask, that you need Mister Phantomhive for, lord Trancey?"

"That," he chuckled, running a finger up Avent's cheek. Christian felt a hot shiver run up his spine and his eyes grew grave. "That, Miss Faron, is a secret."

Avent nodded and smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry, but I believe my butler just saw Mister Phantomhive leave just as I got here. He said something about 'investigation'. Probably a rival company gaining momentum. He should turn in an inquiry to our company soon."

Christian watched as Alois' face became sickly. The noble smiled and then looked at his butler. "Claude, it looks like we should be leaving too."

The butler nodded and, just as he turned to exit, the man flashed a cursory glance to Christian who had already begun tending to his lady.

"Christian," Avent said after her butler indicated that they had left, "I felt nothing but malice in him. He's hiding something." She shivered, though no one in the area noticed. "I pray I never touch anyone so tainted ever again…"


	5. IV: Satan's Hand

_(Author's note: Whoo, so I just realized I made a HORRENDOUS error in the previous chapter. Unfortunately I didn't correct it for three or so days since I didn't realize it till just now, but I have since corrected this error and things should be fine. For all of you who realized that mistake, you guys are excellent readers. For those of you who didn't catch it, all I can say is that I'm more than relieved! Anyway, sorry this update took a while. I was actually away. The next update will take a little time since now I have to do some serious drafting~ Anyway, enjoy this chapter and please leave reviews or PMs if you like what you read. Your comments really do fuel the progress of this story and I'd like to know what you think in general. If you have any critique, let me know too, because I learn while I write, okay?_

_Also, in case you're curious to see what Christian looks like, you can PM me and I can give you a link since FF won't let me put links on here...~)_

**IV: Satan's Hand  
**

It was far too late to travel home and so Ciel once again opened his house to Avent and her butler and, despite Christian's evident disdain, the two stayed over once again. Late that night, Christian was found in the lounge room, standing by the fire and seeming to contemplate something, but any guess at his true intentions would forever remain a guess. After attending the merchant's convention and standing by as his master retold Ciel whatever happened between her and Alois, he then began the winding down process which consisted of waiting while Avent fell asleep and fetching her a glass of water to see her through the night; now it seemed he took some time to rest himself. His right thumb gently stroked the glove covering the back of his left hand in a circular motion. He felt the muscles in his face contract momentarily, a twitch even, but then they relaxed and he regained his neutral composure. And then he turned around.

It was the Indian from before, the older one, Agni. The man stood behind him, only a couch separated them. Christian wanted to say something, opening his mouth to make words, but when nothing came out, he closed it and looked at Agni curiously, wanting to know what brought the man to him at such ungodly hours.

"You," the Indian began, smiling warmly, "are a good butler. I saw you at the convention, the way you watched your master. Despite…all the obstacles she has in her way, you never once show any anger or discontent."

Christian smiled and would have nodded in agreement, but felt it was too self-praising and so did nothing.

"You really must love your master that much to have stuck it through," Agni's voice seemed to melt, as if he were breaking down, but he remained as composed as he was since the beginning of his conversation. And yet, Christian sensed something quavering within the other's body. "I almost…" the Indian came closer, moving past the couch and making his way next to Christian, "I think your dedication puts my service to my prince in shame."

Christian looked away, feeling a tingling in his cheeks. He wanted to hide the blush he knew was forming. If Sebastian saw him like this, he knew he would get another taste of the Phantomhive butlers' ego. But the feeling slowly dissipated.

"You're so humble too," Agni chuckled. "You truly are a piece of work. Your name is Christian, is it?" The blue-eyed butler turned to the Indian and nodded in response. "I apologize. The prince and I practically live here and yet I've never had the pleasure of meeting you. This has been long overdue."

Meanwhile, Christian began to rub his hand harder and harder until the quick circular motions became slow and heavy, creating pull wrinkles in his gloves. Agni's eyes were drawn to the motion.

"Oh. Is your hand hurt?" Without taking an answer, the Indian reached for Christian's left hand. "Here let me fix it, I can hel—"

But as Agni's wrapped hand was just about to touch Christian's, the butler pulled it away, eyes a little wide and frantic. He shook his head and put his hand next to his side so it wouldn't serve as a distraction again.

"My apologies. I was too forward. I should have waited till you said it was okay." Agni seemed unfazed by the sudden rejection. Christian replied Agni's remark with an apologetic smile. Agni understood. "I hope the prince and I see more of you and your master Avent."

The Indian wrapped up his conversation, bowed and then exited the lounge area, presumably to the bed rooms, but Christian waited, running his right hand through his hair and blowing air out of his mouth, frustrated with himself. Then his face contorted again, eyebrows furrowing and eyes squinting through what appeared to be…pain. He opened his mouth as if to groan, but as he expected, no sound came. He bit his lip. Christian looked at his left hand that began to twitch and contract on its own; he pulled the glove off.

There was a circle on which eight black and empty diamonds stayed. At the four cardinal points were small circles, one of which was colored black. And within that circle were two more concentric circles that were broken in four places. From what it looked like, the tattoo appeared to be a compass as well as a map of planetary alignment, an orbit. And it caused the skin around it to burn an angry red. It stung…furiously.

Christian knew…that what was happening wasn't something Sebastian…or even Claude had ever dealt with, but if they saw it…

But his thoughts were interrupted by another bout of strong burning. Christian wrapped his right hand around his left wrist and squeezed reflexively, hoping to cut off blood, but he knew that would _never_ work. His left hand twitched uncontrollably and he was almost forced to his knees as the pain began to wrack his body. Then, as if he had the curse exorcised from his hand, the pain subsided and he heaved a breath and knelt with relief.

Sometimes, he found himself forgetting…

…what it was like to feel no pain.

Alois Trancey and his butler Claude were out and about London that day because the young head of the Trancey household was fed up with constantly moping about his dismal estate and wanted to be surrounded by lively people. Claude maid no motion against his master's wishes and the two left for a day in London. Most of the time, Alois was distracted by the interesting items found in shop windows, but although he had an ample supply of money, he didn't bother purchasing anything he saw. Perhaps his only purchase that day was a bag of toffee that he bought from a famous confectionary. He offered some to Claude with a bright smile, but his butler denied, acknowledging that the toffee was his and his alone. The noble frowned and commented on Claude's lack of spirit, but his attention was quickly taken by yet another store.

Claude followed his butler obediently, but something had caught the Trancey butler's eye. He looked over his shoulder and spotted a deep black. His eyes trailed up the figure and, as the man turned around, Claude noted ocean blue eyes peering back at him. For only a moment, the entire crowd seemed to vanish and only Claude and this man existed on the London streets, but that feeling was broken when the other butler looked away, tending to his master. It was that blind girl from the merchant's convention.

As his mind seemed to pass over the other butler, Claude returned his attention to Alois, but the blonde haired lord had just as easily caught sight of Avent and Christian as his butler did.

"Ooh! Look there, it's Ciel's consultant, isn't it!" Alois' face was glowing. "Let's go say hello, Claude. It's only polite of us."

Claude nodded and followed his energetic master.

On the other side of the square, Christian had caught sight of Alois and Claude. His eyes widened and he quickly tried to swallow a ball that had lodged itself in his throat. That nervous feeling didn't pass easily, but it did subside when Alois greeted Avent.

"Hello there, Miss Faron!"

Avent seemed to recognize the voice. Her eyebrows rose and a smile stretched across her face. "Oh! You must be lord Trancey, am I correct?"

Christian's brow twitched. Avent's voice had a different quality to it: she was nervous and that made her butler uncomfortable, but his face remained composed and didn't betray his feelings.

"Yes, you do remember! I'm quite surprised."

"Why are you surprised?"

"Because…ah…" Alois paused, evidently trying not to be blunt. "Well, because you are blind. Most people have difficulty recognizing faces, but you seem to have no problem recognizing voices. I'm impressed."

Avent blushed. Most people could easily tell she was blind, but hearing something like that from someone like Alois only made her more uncomfortable since she started to play with her fingers. Christian nodded and stepped in, indicating he would be taking his master away, but Alois quickly stepped in.

"If you wouldn't mind, Miss Faron, perhaps you could walk with me. You mentioned something about an inquiry the last time we met. Perhaps you could tell me why lord Phantomhive left."

"Oh, I would love to," she replied hesitantly, "but I'm very busy at the moment."

"That's okay, I wasn't intending to take too much time. Just a minute or two is all I need."

Christian knew she wouldn't say no to that kind of reasoning, and he was right. She nodded cautiously and Alois led her off a little, leaving Claude and Christian further back.

Needless to say, Christian grew even more nervous, continuing to deny his desire to look Claude in the face.

"I didn't know," Claude began, "that young ones like you were allowed to contract so early."

Christian's brow furrowed and he looked up at Claude with a now fierce glance. Claude remembered him…

"You lost your voice…haven't you? What? Did you fall in love with her? Is that why you're being punished?"

Christian's hand curled into a fist, but he fought back the urge to punch the Trancey butler, but temptation was becoming harder to ignore for Claude's words were intentionally sharp and stung Christian on impact.

"You truly are pathetic, you know that. Looking at you makes me wonder how you even managed to contract your master before someone more qualified did. But that doesn't matter," the Trancey butler adjusted his glasses, "because you've obviously gotten yourself into more than you could handle." His golden eyes pierced Christian's and made the blue-eyed butler want to turn away in repulsion. "You deserve everything you're getting…"

"Claude! It's time to go!" Alois' cheery voice piped in.

The Trancey butler turned to his lord and walked off, leaving Christian to follow shortly behind, glaring daggers right into Claude's head.

The two house heads parted, Alois and Claude heading elsewhere into London while Avent and Christian left for home.

"He's still digging his way into Ciel's life, trying to gain access to him. I think he thinks I'm a way in," Avent explained, voice intentionally low so she couldn't be overheard. "I believe this ruse became a little too dangerous, Christian. This 'friendship' can't continue. Do your best to keep Alois and his butler away from me, okay?" Her hand tightened around Christian's and then her lips tightened, "What's the matter, Christian? Your hand's tense…"

Avent informed Ciel of what she had learnt that day in London and Ciel, in response, asked her to stay at the Phantomhive estate so Sebastian could keep a better eye on Alois and his actions. Young Faron had no obligations to living under Ciel's roof, feeling the effects of numerous two hours journeys to the Phantomhive estate but her butler, Christian, showed evident signs of unease. His face holding a slight grimace after the deal had been agreed upon, but his master assured him everything was for the best.

As a part of their agreement, Avent volunteered Christian to help with the Phantomhive servants' daily chores though Sebastian said there was no need. Avent wouldn't let the issue rest at Sebastian's words and she forced Christian into the kitchen as Mei Lin took her away and prepared her for bed. Christian obediently made his way to the kitchen to assist.

That night, he accompanied Sebastian with kitchen duty, but there wasn't a single word shared between the two. Sebastian was content to tidy the messy kitchen in silence while Christian washed the plates and pans that needed a good cleaning.

Sebastian, though, was not so caught up in his duties to not notice that Christian was doing his best to keep his left hand submerged under water. The Phantomhive butler realized that the Faron butler was well aware of what he was doing and was intentionally keeping something hidden. But Sebastian didn't push the issue since he knew Christian was as cunning as he was and wouldn't easily show what he hid.

And then, by luck's grace, Christian lifted his hands out of the water as it drained away. He had completed his work and began washing his hands. Sebastian's eyes wandered over to the blue-eyed butler's hands and he noted the concentric circles. Of course, Sebastian already knew what Christian was and so he wasn't surprised by anything, but what made the Phantomhive butler's brow furrow was the fact that the skin around the mark was flaming red.

Then Sebastian realized that Christian had been looking at him, for how long, though, he had no idea. The red-eyed butler looked away, saying nothing about the very strange skin reaction, but even if he did ask, Christian could say nothing and, even if he was able to, would say nothing.

As he prepared to finish his day, Christian gave Sebastian another hostile glare before proceeding to his quarters.

"Here, let me help you, lady Faron," Mei Lin said, warmth in her voice.

"Oh, thank you…" Avent said, cheeks flushing a light pink.

"I see you're not used to anyone other than Christian helping you…"

"Your voice tells me you think that's very strange, a male butler assisting a female butler change, but Christian is the only person I can rely on while I travel. Besides, he only helps me take off my outerwear. I take care of the rest."

Mei Lin nodded, her own cheeks turning a little pink, feeling slightly embarrassed for not considering Avent's condition. But she continued with her work without any hesitation, pulling of Avent's black mourning dress. "I'll have this washed and returned to you tomorrow. It's dirty at the ends. The London streets aren't as forgiving to clothing."

Avent chuckled and agreed.

"Oh," Mei Lin said, noting something hanging around the high-collared neck of Avent's slip. "That's a gorgeous necklace." She chuckled. "Forgive me. I don't get to talk to girls closer to my age very often."

"I can understand. The Phantomhive household is filled with mostly men. But, yes, I got this from my mother before I left."

Mei Lin nodded, "Well, your mother had great taste! Okay. I'm finished here. I left your nightdress on the bed. You can do the rest, right? If you need help, I'll be just outside your door."

"Thank you, Mei Lin, but I'll be fine."

The maid's lips curled into an unsure smile, but she walked outside and waited by the door until Avent called her back in. Surprisingly, Avent stayed true to her word; she had successfully changed into her nightdress, her slip lying on the bed ready to be collected.

Mei Lin picked up the garment and put it into the clothing basket she held to her hips. "I'll drop them off in your room tomorrow. If you need to borrow some clothes for an assignment, I'll go fetch you some."

"Thank you, again!"

"Good night, Miss Faron."

Christian came up the stairs once again with Avent's glass of water. He had crossed path with Sebastian as he ascended the steps, but the Phantomhive butler did nothing to cause him trouble. Obviously the red-eyed man had obtained all the information he had needed and no longer took any interest in the other butler living on his turf. Christian was somewhat relieved, but nothing could completely shake the uneasiness that cursed him whenever Sebastian was around.

Knocking softly on his master's door, he was welcomed in with Avent's happy smile. She sat upright in her bed as she had already tucked herself in.

"You should get some rest too, Christian."

He closed the door behind him and walked over to right bedside table on which he placed the glass.

"Christian, sit here."

He stayed standing, looking at his master hesitantly. When she didn't feel the shift in weight of the bed, she gave a small, hurt frown and Christian then complied, sitting at the foot of her bed. This irritated her, or so Christian observed, for she crawled from beneath the covers and sat next Christian, taking his left hand. It twitched under her touch. Her face grew tender.

"It's getting worse, isn't it..?"

Christian placed the index and middle fingers of his right hand on Avent's forehead.

"I'm sorry…" Avent said. "It's my fault…"

He shook his head. There was some silence.

"No…you didn't do anything," she said. "I…I promise, it won't be much longer. I promise. Just…please…fight it a little longer. Now go on, get to bed…"

Christian gently pulled his hand away from his master's touch and headed toward the door, an understanding and sad smile fading off his face.

He slipped out the door in silence and began walking down the hall to his quarters, but as he took the first step, a swelling feeling in his chest halted him. He heaved a deep breath and curled his hand into a fist. Then he turned around. Nothing. And he was so sure that red-eyed bastard had been standing there, but nothing. His attention was quickly diverted when he realized his left hand began throbbing again.

Perhaps Avent was right, that he was just a little overworked, tired. He shook his head and thought about everything he had given up in order to gain…

But that wasn't important now. He had a master to protect, to serve. Reminiscing about days gone would get him nowhere.

He continued down the hall, not bothering to turn and verify or disprove the eerie feeling he got from walking down the halls alone. Yet he was confident he would _never_ be alone in the Phantomhive estate.


	6. V: Easy to be Accepted

_(Author's note: I am so sorry for this chapter being so freakishly late. I was actually working on this story on the plane flight back to the States, but I didn't like the original draft so I had to redo almost all of it. The story's going through plot maintenance so things flow nicer and that's also why it took so long. Hahah, I bet you thought I forgot about this story, right? Or that I just gave up? It's okay...from my FF gallery, you can see that it happens...a lot. Anyway, this chapter is really long so I had to break it into two different parts. Enjoy for now~)_

**Chapter V: Easy to be Accepted**

It wasn't very often that Avent asked for a hearing with Ciel without having an assignment handed to her prior, but today was different as she waltzed into Ciel's study, newspaper under her arm and Christian following with her hand in his.

The Phantomhive master wasn't used to such an authoritative look on a girl so soft and understated as Avent and, inside, it troubled him to see her so: something serious had to have happened if it had gotten her so riled.

Ciel leaned back in his chair and tilted his head up toward Avent whose eyes stared into nothingness. He watched her place the newspaper on the table and push it forward.

"Christian has informed me…" her full, glossy, pink lips were pulled into an unattractively serious line, "that someone paid Elisia Warren's bail."

Ciel's eyes grew wide. He picked up the newspaper and began reading the headlines, but then he placed the bundles of paper down and looked back at his assistant.

"Who would go against Her Majesty? It's political suicide…especially in her own country."

"My thoughts exactly, but whoever we're dealing with mustn't care much for the Queen. She's completely outraged at such an affront to English rule, but, being as gracious and just as she is, Her Majesty decided not to throw Elisia back into prison." Avent paused, a smile breaking the solemn mold that had held her. "That is all I have brought you today. I'm sorry if I have insulted you, making you think that I believe you don't read the paper yourself, but I thought something like this was important to discuss together."

Ciel nodded absentmindedly, not taking into consideration the fact that Avent couldn't see his action, but he was in the company of other sighted individuals and continued to act normally. His one exposed blue eye followed Christian's hand as it took Avent's and began to lead her out. Then he spoke out.

"Miss Faron," he began as the brunette had reached the door. She looked over her shoulder, lips twitching with curiosity. "If you hear anything from Her Majesty," he peered up, looking into her butler's deep blue eyes then at her soulless, icy ones, "do let me know."

"Will do, Mister Phantomhive," she chuckled, hand tightening around her butler's.

When Avent had left, joy vacated as well, yet the young master lingered in the profound emptiness that had engulfed the room. He sat behind his desk, staring at the newspaper blankly, feeling something rise and fall in his chest. It was timely, like ocean waves, but then it intensified. Loneliness…was not foreign to him and happiness…seemed so far away. He had lived with these conditions for so long and so Ciel had no credible idea as to why he suddenly felt _that_ pain.

The pressure on his chest forced him to his feet, but his trembling, blood-starved legs fell victim to gravity and he collapsed, hand still clinging to the desk for support. Ciel was sure he had hit the ground: the swing of motion had stopped. He moved his hand away from his face and stared directly into his butler's scarlet eyes. That demon never failed, Ciel, swept by irritation, had thought, to make a last minute entrance.

Sebastian's face wore concern. "Are you well, my lord?" he asked, voice still controlled and mellow.

Ciel's brows had creased into a deep frown. "I'm going to go to bed early today, Sebastian. Make sure I wake up early tomorrow. I'd have wasted enough time sleeping…"

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel hadn't received correspondence from the Queen in a long time and so his days were filled with classes and business dinners, but there finally came the day when a letter marked with the royal seal made its way to the Phantomhive earl's office on a silver platter.

The boy took the envelope from his butler and began reading it intently, his eye shifting across the lines of text at a decent pace. Folding the note and setting it down, Ciel looked at Sebastian with a displeased grimace on his face. And he had gotten so used to staying at home and not worrying about these…issues. But he was, of course, loyal to the Queen and would not start to disappoint her now.

"We have an assignment today. Have my things prepared within a couple of hours and be ready to leave."

"Of course, my lord, but first, how does shredded crab in marinara sauce over angel hair pasta sound to you?"

Ciel looked at Sebastian incredulously, eyebrow cocked. He was sure something snaky would barrel past his lips, but he maintained composure and all that escaped was a stern "Peachy."

The earl and his servant didn't leave the estate until sunset fell over the horizon, but, from the information given, they didn't have to leave any earlier. As Sebastian pulled the carriage out of the grounds, Ciel's mind drifted from thoughts on the assignment to previous events of the day…to meetings he had done in the past month…to statements he'd made in the past year. His mind sifted through progressively broader expanses of retained information, but then everything began rapidly narrowing into, what he perceived to be, a single, definitive point. And just as his analytical mind was catching up with his memory, the carriage jerked to a stop and anything he had thought of suddenly dissolved into the air, leaving not a single trace to follow.

Sebastian opened the door and apologized for the rough stop, but Ciel was far beyond irritated, left with the feeling of something missing since he had not fully understood to what his mind was leading him. Yet the angered face the lord displayed didn't in the least bother Sebastian who seemed to be, in fact, enjoying it.

Rolling his eyes, the earl proceeded before his butler, toward the welcoming doors of a theatre. It had been built recently, this opera house, by a former Italian opera singer who had left the country in search of greater things. Ciel ran over the trivial facts in his mind, having nothing better to do since he had lost the only thoughts that had interested him.

"We'd better hurry and get our seats," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the door, "before the crowd comes in. It will be difficult otherwise."

Sebastian smiled, agreeing with his master as he usually did, then his eyes, too, began to wander, taking in the sights of wealthy people loitering in the square, waiting for the program to start. There was a severe lack of paupers here, the servant noted, thinking back to the Globe Theatre which allowed even the poor to watch plays, albeit in little comfort. Of course, he knew that the absence of peasants mattered little in this case: it was just a formality.

The next sight of which Sebastian was aware was inside the theatre in the lobby. Ciel stood in the center, staring intently at the ceiling which was characteristic of no particular place or time. It had gold engravings set in a rich red background with plated, wooded supports running across the expanse of flat structure which created a grid. Every so often, a chandelier hung from a grid unit, brining light to the windowless theatre.

The earl's lips twitched with disgust: he thought the theatre looked, in short, classless and distasteful, failing to hold up to any sophistication he expected from something so cultured.

"Let's go, Sebastian. You're slow," he said.

"My apologies. It will not happen again."

Ciel hadn't said anything to Sebastian since he last spoke in the lobby. The two took their seats in one of the upper loges, overlooking the orchestra and the stage and, to the earl's dismay, they weren't alone. A young couple entered shortly after the lord had comfortably seated himself and took their place next to him.

The earl slumped slightly in his chair, knowing the couple would be quite a nuisance. They held each other closely and chattered, frequently muttering phrases of affection to which the woman would occasionally giggle and reply with a sweet kiss. It made Ciel sick and he looked at Sebastian who merely smiled back at his lord; it only made Ciel all the angrier.

He only had to endure a few more minutes of agony in the face of public indecency until the opera began, but even that held little of Ciel's interest. He began to fade away, losing himself to his own mind, diving deeper in search of that trail he had embarked upon in the carriage and had so suddenly lost as he veered far off course. And as he thought he drew closer to the path he so desperately sought, he came to think that the idea had been pulled right out of his mind: he couldn't find the answer any longer. Gritting his teeth in blind fury, he slowly emerged from his musings and, from his peripheral, eyed Sebastian, who watched the opera with a feigned interest, with a little more than just disdain.

The hours passed slowly for Ciel, but they did pass and, finally, the curtain fell and the doors opened. The earl watched as the young couple quickly rose and hurried out of the loge, closer in proximity from when they first arrived. Then, with their booth to themselves, Ciel turned to Sebastian.

"Let's get back stage quickly. If anything, infiltrating the troupe would be the best way to find out what's happened to those that have been kidnapped." Then Ciel walked out of the room. He looked left and right, trying to find the quickest way to the stage. Everyone seemed to be flooding to the right, perhaps because the exit closest to their carriages was that way. Only a few took the left path and that was the one Ciel chose as well. The hall that connected all the loge seating ran straight and led to a staircase that descended to the first floor and opened into the orchestra. There the Phantomhive noble waited for the seating area to clear before he made a motion to investigate and when the halls had been, for the most part, vacated, he and his butler proceeded on stage and behind the curtains.

With the stage lighting out, Ciel found it difficult to navigate through the darkness. Sebastian, though, quickly made it to his lord's side and assisted him around any hazards. After a few minutes of blindly following, Ciel saw light escaping through a door cracked open. He and his butler approached it and the lord peeked through. There were different costumes hanging on the walls and armoires with round mirrors set in intricately carved wooden frames that lined the wall. From the looks of it, the door led to a dressing room. Since no noise came from within, Ciel took the liberty of entering.

"I wonder if the troupe's outside already. They made quick business of their things if that's the case," he said, inspecting the various things left on the table. "It looks as if they left half of their things here and just cleared off."

The earl approached one of the armoires and glanced at a wig that had been left behind. His lip curled into a grimace as he examined the quality of the product, stroking the fine hairs gingerly. It was, to his surprise, much like actual, well-maintained hair-soft, silky, and healthy. Picking it up, he put his hand where the netting was to examine it more closely.

"These wigs have solid netting. It feels almost like a soft leather. That's unusual."

"My lord, I recommend we move a little faster. It will become unnecessarily difficult to track the troupe if they get too far from us."

"Right." And as he drew his hand from beneath the wig cap, he noticed his fingertips were red. His eyes narrowed and he turned the wig inside out. The entire 'netting' surface was red and bloody and Ciel, holding in a scream that just wanted to burst beyond his lips, threw the wig at the mirror and stepped away defensively.

"Sebastian!" the Phantomhive lord cried, taking a few eager steps forward and moving into a desperate sprint.

It took a moment, but Ciel began to realize he had been running blindly, following wherever his will took him, but his instincts led him to another half-open door. His fingers slipped past the crack and pulled the door further away from the frame slowly so as to not cause an indicative noise. His efforts gained him secrecy and the earl managed to slide by unnoticed, finding his way behind musty smelling crates. Sebastian stood by the doorway, keeping an eye on his lord and anything else that moved in the corridor.

The room Ciel had gone into, from Sebastian's point of view, opened up to nature. It appeared to be the theatre's storage room and, just a little further past the walls, was a caravan of notable size. People were bustling back and forth, packing various suitcases and crates into an unseated carriage that doubled as a stage when fully opened.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with this group, but the look on the young master's face showed he knew far better than to trust hollow facades. Any time might have been the right time to strike, but Ciel gave Sebastian no motion to proceed. Perhaps the lord thought causing a commotion in broad daylight would bring too much unwanted attention. But before the butler could think of another manner in which he could deal with the situation, the caravan had fully packed and began to take off, leaving the storage chamber open for a theatre worker to close.

The noble rose from his position and looked at his butler who replied the gaze with a knowing, supportive nod. The butler picked up his lord, holding him close to his suited body and took off after the troupe.

"If what the Queen suspects is true, this troupe will probably stop somewhere to deal with whoever they've captured. That is _if _they captured anybody at all. Keep following them, but make sure none of the actors see you_."_

"Of course. Stealth in serious situations is only befitting a Phantomhive butler."

Sebastian managed to keep himself concealed with the help of the forest that lined the path. The caravan moved at a steady pace until night began to fall and the few that walked ahead of the first car in the mobile train began to talk amongst themselves, muttering things along the line of "it's getting late," and "we should rest." Eventually, the train of carriages pulled into a small clearing of the forest and began unpacking the basics for night survival.

Everyone was contributing to setting up camp, children to older members, but one man stood to the side, overlooking the entire operation. He looked somewhere in the mid-forties, donning a scruffy beard and some disheveled though charming clothes. He might have been the band leader; no one else seemed to mind his lack of activity and no one opposed it either. Occasionally, he would give direction, pointing a clueless soul to a certain goal and, sometimes, he would peel his back off the side of the storage carriage to help some of the young female members carry heavy loads.

"It looks so normal," Ciel frowned.

A smirk wiped across Sebastian's porcelain face, but his eyes, peeking through the jet black locks that hung about his face, were void of any true joy. "It would not be wise to charge in for it would be dangerous for everyone involved. And if they found out we were working under the Queen, it would spell disaster for the entire mission-not that I could not put an end to everything before anything flickered from flame to fire."

The noble looked at the ground, damp and muddy, and then began removing his waistcoat and any other 'unnecessary item'. He even removed one of his own shoes and planted his socked foot deep into the mud. "Sebastian," he said, holding out his arm to his butler, "rip this shirt."

Looking questioningly at his master, Sebastian obeyed, tearing half the seam that held the sleeve to the shoulder. Then the butler proceeded to pull off a few of the top buttons of the master's shirt and continued adding more and more 'details' to Ciel's entire outfit before the noble said to stop. The young master looked at the ground once again and bent over, picking up large clots of dirt and rubbing it all over his face and body.

Wiping off the excess, his eyes wandered over to Sebastian. "Stay close, but don't be seen."

The butler nodded, watching intently as his lord wandered into the clearing, limping.

The caravan drew closer. Ciel guessed he was only ten meters or so away from the camp. He gasped and began swaying helplessly before collapsing just a little past one of the carriages.

"Oh no…" came a young girl's voice. "Quick! Someone get some help!"

Ciel's eyes were closed and so he couldn't see if anyone had gathered around, but he began to hear footsteps grow progressively louder and, feeling a large hand pry him off the ground, knew he was being carried off. He thought he had only traveled a few more meters from his initial point of rest before he was let down again, this time on something soft and cushiony. The once lively troupe grew deathly silent and he felt numerous presences around his body.

"Clear off now, kiddos!" came a different woman's voice, this time older and almost maternal. Ciel's mind centered on her thick Irish accent. "Lemme see him, lemme see him."

There was shuffling and then liquid ran over his open mouth. The noble wasn't prepared for water and began coughing, doing his best to keep himself looking frail.

His uncovered eye fluttered open slowly and he looked at whoever had 'helped' him.

"Where…am I?" he asked, voice soft.

The Irishwoman smiled, pushing bright, frizzy, near orange hair behind her ear. "Welcome back!" She smiled. "You're a little off London." Then her eyebrows creased. "What're you doin' so far away from civilization. Your parents live 'round here, love?"

"P-parents?" Ciel's lips twitched and opened, releasing a heartbroken, defeated soul. "N-no. I…have none."

"You poor thing!" She looked concerned, a round hand stroking Ciel's cheek gently. "Well, you best rest here. I'm gonna go off and be back in a minute." She rose, looking around her at the crowd that had gathered. "Now you all hurry up and do your work, m'kay? I'm sure ya don't want Gesalt getting' angry at you! After all he's done for you, too."

With that, the congregation cleared off, going back to their nightly chores. Ciel watched, eyeing the numerous members of the troupe. He pushed himself upright, leaning back against the cushion that supported him momentarily. His mind seemed to drift off again, drift off into deeper things, but then someone came into his frame of vision and planted himself in view.

"Oi, there." Ciel found large brown eyes staring him in the face. The accent wasn't British, but Ciel was becoming used to different dialects, what with Avent and her strange accent frequently echoing the halls of his estate. From the sound of it, this child was Australian.

"Yes…" Ciel peered meekly up at the boy.

"Ah…nothin'." the child said, looking away indignantly. "I jus' thought...ya very weird lookin'." He stuck out his tongue and hurried off, hauling a sack over his shoulder and, as he ran away, he led Ciel's eyes over to the large woman with orange hair and the 'leader' of the caravan.

The pair approached Ciel, the woman discussing something with the older man who nodded every so often, but held no defining expression on his face. Then they drew close enough to be within earshot and, sequentially, stopped talking to themselves, turning their attention to the scruffy looking English boy that had intruded on their travelling family.

"Whaddya say, Gesalt?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I see no harm in letting him stay. He's gotta pick his own weight, though; contribute to the group where it's lacking. He won't be able to get on stage until we see how well he can act, but that's in due time, isn't it?"

"Of course! I'm so glad. I feel a special somethin' about this one. I promise ya won't regret it, Gesalt."

He nodded and wandered back into whatever obscurity from which he came, leaving Ciel and the woman to themselves.

"Well now, youngin'," the orange haired woman looked at him, "you can call me Adelaine and that, there, is Gesalt, the troupe leader." Ciel had guessed as much. "If ya ever run inna s'me trouble, just come back and let us know, okay? Sometimes the kids here can be a little hard when someone new drops by. But remember, most of 'em were in the same place as you and now they call here home so still be nice to them. It's for your good anyway."

The woman gave him another affectionate cheek stroke, green eyes looking directly into his own, and then stood, turning away and going off to her own business.

It seemed Ciel hadn't been assigned any work yet. Neither Adelaine nor Gesalt spoke to him specifically of any work, but, to make himself look a little more proactive, he rose from the cushioning and wandered aimlessly into the bustling fray which began to cool down as more and more things got unpacked. Then everything settled to a halt and what appeared to be the entire troupe made their way to the campfire set right in the middle of the crescent formed by the carriage train.

Ciel joined them, taking whatever open place he found, hoping not to draw too much attention to himself, but that wasn't as much of a problem since everyone else was too preoccupied with stories of their own performances to notice a new face. The noble's eyes scanned the ring of people, noting that Gesalt had yet to show up and, to say the least, not knowing where a man as ominous looking as that leader bothered him. He couldn't leave now, though, to search for Gesalt. That would draw far too much attention and rouse suspicion. Not only that, Ciel's gaze fixed on Adelaine's eyes which he mistook, initially, for emeralds. If she saw him leaving, she would, undoubtedly, follow him and question him. So, he stayed and was given a small wooden bowl in which he was given a hearty serving of beef stew.

Dinner was far longer than the lord was used to. Singing and dancing followed the initial meal and that alone lasted two to three hours. As the festivities pushed late into the night, Ciel felt himself falling to fatigue and he quietly excused himself and made his way back to the cushion that had been initially laid out for him. He didn't lie down, though, having seen that the other troupe members slept on sheets alone. Perhaps sleeping on the cushioning was a little presumptuous.

"That's ya place tonigh'. We dun have enough sheets for you," Ciel's mind followed the style of her words, now noting that broken Irish accent.

"I see. I'll try not to be a burden,"

"Wait? What're ya doing, sittin' down like that? We gotta get you showered and get you some new clothes! Can't go ruinin' the good sheets, now can we?"

He had been given a bar of soap, a small washcloth, and another, larger, dry cloth, and then been led behind one of the caravan trains on which were taps. The noble certainly wasn't expecting to see a caravan solely for water, but he had seen so many things in his life.

Left to his own devices, Ciel turned on one of the taps, splashed water on himself, and began rubbing off the dirt that had now dried into clots and patched themselves on his skin. His motions were slow and jaded, but his mind was skipping past numerous ideas. The thought he had once harped on in the carriage was now the last thought on his mind. Now, his entire focus was finding out what had been happening here. He needed evidence, though. Even that wig he found in the dressing room was not enough to bring forth charges on the mass of, so far, innocent people. But he knew that the Queen's suspicion was based on more than just his observations and his job required he put her fears to an end.

Ciel wrapped the washcloth around his body and peeked out from behind the caravan, thinking that, perhaps, Adelaine would show her face as she had been doing and hand him the clothes she had mentioned.

"Um...excuse me?" came a familiar voice from behind.

Turning, the noble caught a glimpse of a small, brown haired girl around his own age. She was the one, he thought, who called out for help.

"Oh...thank you," he replied plainly, seemingly secure with his sexuality in the presence of a girl.

"A-Adelaine. Um...she sent these...for you," she replied, turning her red face to the side to keep her gaze away from Ciel's pale body.

"Right." He took the clothes and watched as she hurried away. "Oh..." words had escaped his lips and she stopped, back facing the noble, "good night."

"Good night..."

And she was gone.


	7. VI: It Can Waver and Fight

_(Author's note: Oh hai there! I bet you were all like 'Oh dammit, she's not going to finish this!'. But no, I have still been trying really hard to write this, no lie. I just started college so things got slow. Anyway, I don't quite know how many readers I have at this point, so if you do still like this story, you should totally post your like/love/hate/comments in the reviews box so I can gauge how well this story has done. Now, enjoy~~!)_

**Chapter VI: It Can Waver and Fight**

When Ciel woke the next morning, the ground was moving. Face contorting to a displeased frown, the noble turned and saw ruby eyes set in milky white skin looking down at him. Sebastian.

The noble's mouth twitched with irritation; he was sure he had told Sebastian, that idiot, to stay away and yet here the butler was. Yet, something was amiss. Ciel's head moved turned frantically, searching the crowd that surrounded him and his butler. The acting troupe...none of them looked at Sebastian with any hostility; none of them questioned his presence.

"What did you do?" said the earl, head lowering ominously.

"Nothing, my lord," came the quiet reply. "I merely auditioned."

Rolling his eyes, the boy demanded to be let down. Sebastian, of course, obeyed his master's wish, following shortly behind his lord. Certainly he knew his master was irritated, but he couldn't deny that staying this close to his master would only make the task at hand far easier to complete.

Together, they walked in silence for another half day before the lead walkers spoke again of resting. One ran to the back of the leading line and conversed with the solitary Gesalt who nodded his approval and directed the caravan to another outcropping.

Unpacking happened as it did the night Ciel first arrived, but the only difference was that the two newcomers participated to the best of their abilities, moving crates of salted food and other goods back and forth. To the earl's dismay, none of the crates were labeled and so he and Sebastian worked blindly, pulling out whatever was in their reach.

The young noble approached the back of one caravan and reached for the crate nearest the open end of the car. He placed his hands around the edge, fingers gripping an indent in the wood, and pulled out, shuffling the box closer to him. But, as he had just gotten a sturdy enough grip, a rough hand planted itself on top of the box, making any attempt at progress futile.

"Not that," Gesalt looked at Ciel with dark, glazed over eyes. "We don't need anything in here until we get to the next town so just leave them and get to work on something else."

Raising a brow, Ciel nodded and put on a nervous smile. "Right, sorry. I'll remember next time." He shuffled off, taking note of the cart in which the boxes were held. "Myrrin's Travelling Arts" had been painted on the side of the car in a gaudy gold. The boy eyed the text once more and walked off to help someone else in their task.

Dinner happened around the same time as it did the night before and Ciel, knowing how long the events ran, was prepared to go to sleep far earlier so that he wouldn't wind up in Sebastian's arms once again.

Once or twice, the noble would look up from his hot bowl of welcoming brown stew only to receive his butler's scarlet, watchful eyes. Ciel replied the looks with a stern, cold glance and then returned his attention to the carrots that peeked out tantalizingly from the soup. With his spoon, Ciel picked at the vegetables and finally took in a mouthful of flavorful food, finding himself wondering how he came to enjoy such a basic meal. Of course, the portions were not as notable as they were at his own estate and so perhaps his reaction came from hunger rather than preference.

Wiping the bottom of the bowl with the flesh of a roll he had been served, Ciel took his last few bites of food for the day and stood promptly to wash his dish and proceed to bed. After making his way to the back of the water car, he ran the wooden bowl through the water and wiped away the excess soup with his fingers that had now multiplied as fatigue took its hold. Then, turning to return the bowl to the young girl in charge of dishes, he was met with Adelaine's smiling face.

"Hey there, m'dear. I know ya very tired, but Gesalt would like ta see ya before you go to bed."

Ciel looked at her and smiled, not bothering himself with hiding his sleep deprived body. "Yes. I see. I'll go see him immediately."

She took his bowl and smiled, pointing him in the direction of Gesalt's sleeping area which to which Ciel proceeded.

Gesalt looked like someone that didn't sleep very much or very often. His face was dark, but he might have been a handsome tan had it not been for the ashy color that seemed to have burnt itself into his skin. His eyes were, by standard, dark and deep circles surrounded the ominous gaze he shot every so often. That same gaze greeted the boy as he approached and, pushing away the brown tangles of shoulder-length hair, Gesalt flashed what might have been a transitory smile. "Ciel." He nodded

"You called me, sir?"

The older man's eyes shifted back and forth, searching for anyone within earshot and, when everyone was of a far enough distance, he continued. "Let's cut with the bullshit, Ciel." He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. His voice said he was in a bad mood. "You may have fooled everyone else with your little act, but you're going to have to step it up if you think you're gonna fool me." He blew out a ring of sharp smelling smoke. Ciel, in proximity, inhaled and coughed. His lungs felt like they were bubbling from the inside, slowly eroding away. But, for the sake of looking stronger, he withheld the urge to cover his mouth. "Anyway, I'm impressed that you managed to get this far with your little ruse...or maybe I should be disappointed by the fact that all of them might be complete idiots. Either way, you and that other guy we picked up on the way today...you two are going on stage when we hit the next town. We'll be doing Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" so practice up and be ready to present in the next two days."

Ciel felt the muscles on his forehead contract. His eyebrows rose and he nodded. "Right." There was no need to hide anything any longer. "I won't disappoint you, then, Gesalt."

"Get to bed." The leader put his hand to his face, fingers gently gripping at his skin; Gesalt was visibly irritated, possibly even more than he was just prior. "And don't sleep in, lazy dog, or else we'll just leave you behind."

That was always the case. Always. It seemed he and Sebastian were, by fate, forever to be put together. Even to the band of actors who had no knowledge of their relationship, the earl and the butler looked perfect together and so when Sebastian received the role of Claudio, Ciel wasn't surprised when Gesalt demanded he play Hero.

The boys lips were drawn into a thin, unsatisfied line just before he was being dressed in Italian period robes...for women. No surprise, the dress was too short for him and so Adelaine, with the perpetual smile, flew to the rescue and quickly applied a reliable hem. Even she, despite her loyalty to and trust in Gesalt, didn't quite understand why he didn't give Ciel a role more appropriate for his age and stature.

"Are you ready to go on? Any lines you wanna go over again?" Adelaine asked lovingly.

"No. I'm fine."

Affectionate green eyes scanned Ciel quickly; Adelaine patted the earl's cheek. "I can't believe ya goin' onstage only just afta' ya came to us. Gesalt must have some serious faith in your abilities. Go show us whatcha got!" Then she parted, making her way to the theatre's armoire to fix her own costume.

Gesalt. The one name that echoed in Ciel's mind, so clear that it felt like someone spoke the man's name directly into the boy's ear. Gesalt.

Gesalt.

Gesalt.

Then the name faded away as the red velvet curtains parted, leaving Ciel to greet the bright lights and gently silhouetted outlines of theatre goers.

The show was a success and, though Gesalt commented on the somewhat 'lackluster' performance Ciel gave, he was, in all, pleased. They had raked in quite a lot this time, much more than their last showing in London, but perhaps that was because they had come to a city which did not often have a travelling band of actors visit. Nonetheless, the celebration that night was enormous. Kegs of wine stashed away in the water caravan had been taken out and glasses, filled to the rim with bloody vice, made their way in rounds.

Everyone drank, even the children above the age of ten. Ciel, too, was offered a drink, but he declined sharply, gaining strange looks from some of the other younger, looser boys. Well, he had to keep his wits about him. He was still on the job, of course. His eyes scanned the field they had set up camp in, scanned for any unusual behavior. Nothing. Nothing seemed amiss...yet. Perhaps the only thing that bothered him was Gesalt's absence. It was far longer tonight than any night. Then, rising, he stretched and made his way back behind the caravan carts, unnoticed by the other, merrier crowd.

Behind the cars, the voices, the singing, everything was muffled. Ciel leaned against the car and sighed: this assignment was growing on his nerves. He just wanted to go home at that point. His eyes closed gently as he allowed himself to drift off into his consciousness.

"Are ya okay, lad?" came Adelaine's familiar voice.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Ciel. "I'm just a little tired."

"Oh, you would be! After that amazin' show you put on! I'm so proud of you!" She pinched his cheeks lovingly, eyes filled with joy. Ciel pulled away from the touch, but managed a false smile.

"Are we still unpacking?" the boy said, noting an unopened crate near her feet.

"Nah. We unpacked everything already. I'm going to wash the clothing. We've had quite a lot of dirty laundry stored up. The last time we were by a river was about three days ago. Gesalt's quite serious about water preservation, so he won't let me use any we have stored in the car." She chuckled and brushed back the fringe of her orange frizz. "But, as much as I complain, he does a good job of running the troupe, so I just do all I can to help!"

"I see, well, would you like a hand?" He might as well try to act helpful.

"No, it's fine, really! I'm getting Madeline to help me. You know Madeline? The girl who found you! Helpful one, she is. She and I are responsible for laundry duty, so you just go back and enjoy the party."

"Right." And he was just about to turn away when he realized he could ask..."Oh, but before I leave! Do you know where Gesalt is? I have to talk to him about tonight's performance. He said he didn't quite like everything about my rendition. I wanted to see how I could get better..."

"Hmm." Adelaine smiled, pressing a chubby finger to her lips that were curved into a maternal smile. "The last I saw him...he was headed into the storage car. I dun quite understand why, though. There's really nothin' there except props we packed away." She laughed. "Sometimes I don't understand that man, but to each 'is own, yes?"

"Oh. Thank you, ma'am."

The Irishwoman nodded and picked up her crate, hobbling off into the woods, toward the river to wash the clothing.

Ciel, though, walked in the other direction, heading to the prop caravan which was open as usual. He climbed into the back, looking around, looking for crates that might have gone missing, a sign that Gesalt might have already taken evidence away. No...there was nothing missing...was there?

The noble's hands grew frantic, thrashing as they hurriedly tossed aside crate lids and costumes in the eager search for signs of a victim.

"What are you doing?" Gesalt's voice was stern as usual. The young Phantomhive noble turned. The man's dark eyes peered from beneath the shag of brown hair. His arms were crossed and wet. His clothes, too, were splashed with water. "I thought I told you to not search through the prop cart. Look what you've done! I hope you know you'll be packing all this up..."

"What did you do..." Ciel spoke, voice low and ominous. He stood on his feet, rising taller than the troupe leader with the help of the caravan.

"What did I do? I was doing the damn laundry so spoilt brats like you have clothes to wear. I knew I was stupid to have let Adelaine talk me into keeping another urchin..."

"Laundry...you couldn't have been doing the laundry. Adelaine is doing the laundry."

"No, Adelaine has kitchen duty. It's my turn to do laundry today, so stop making excuses and pa-"

But that was all the earl needed. He darted past Gesalt, feet stamping into the grass and taking off toward the thicket. Ciel had no idea whether or not the troupe leader decided to follow: the cracks that sounded when he stepped on and broke fallen branches overpowered any softer noise in the distance; Ciel was sure that he couldn't have even heard the river if he had tried. But the forest began to clear, trees becoming more and more scattered and open space finally revealing the star studded sky. His run slowed into a canter until he stopped himself completely, glancing eagerly from side to side, scanning for the Irishwoman that had so cunningly evaded his grasp.

The humble roar of running water echoed through the forest, bouncing off of trees and slipping into the earl's mind. If anything, Adelaine was close. She had to be...

...for his own sake, she had to be.

And so, he began walking upstream, thinking he had drifted a little south of the woman's original path, seeing as he had started his journey from the prop car. At first, his pace was notably quick; he began panting soon after he started, but as he drew further away from his initial position, he began slowing down. The earl didn't quite understand it himself, but anxiousness began to well up in his chest and take hold of him, halting his movements, forcing him to the speed of a crawl.

"There's never any time for this anymore!"

Ciel's eyes drifted left and his body soon followed his line of sight. Inching forward, he made his way behind a bush, peering over the fringe, looking for the orange shock of hair. But there was nothing. Just the river and the forest.

"Of course, more children have to come by. I could've been done with you two days ago hadn't Ciel showed up!"

Her voice! It was just a little further behind him. Turning and breaking into a soft run, the noble followed the disappearing traces of the Irishwoman's voice.

"But not to matter, dearie, I'm going to finish with you today and see to it that you go to good use!"

Everything looked the same. Trees that looked identical to the other trees just flew by as Ciel ran, frantically searching. And then a flash of orange frizz. He halted and scanned the area. Just beyond a few shrubs and a single barrier of trees was a river, the sounds of which the noble had missed while he was possessed by determination. Yes, and there stood Adelaine. Thoughts were not processed during the seconds that followed his discovery and by the time he had gained control of his senses, Ciel realized he had flung himself into Adelaine's sight and was staring straight into her bejeweled eyes. He had not yet noticed who had lay beside the robust Irishwoman, but his eyes soon found their way across the limp body with deep chestnut hair strewn across the muddy ground, the pallid skin now stained with dirt, and that same black dress of mourning worn dutifully on every assignment.

Ciel's eyebrow twitched. "How," he began, teeth clenched together, "did you manage to kidnap my assistant?"

Adelaine's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Your _assistant_?" she said without accent. Confusion was evident, plastered across her face like a poster. "You? A child? Have an assistant? Don't humor me, Ciel." Her eyes drew narrow. "But nonetheless, I obviously can't let you go back and tell that daft idiot, Gesalt about what I've been doing." There was a metallic click; the boy then saw the revolver in the woman's hand. "He, a thorough-bred actor wasn't even the wiser to my plans. What a fool. I've been cursed to a life on the road with literary morons. To think, I'd been wasting away here when I could have been back in London, making myself _great_, the finest costumer in all of England!"

"Your goals are as shallow as the gutter from which you came, Adelaine," Ciel said, vicious smirk inching across his face. "Give me my assistant back and I'll give my good word to the Queen that you aren't as vicious a monster as you show yourself to be now, but if you so much as _scratch_ her, I can guarantee that you will regret the moment you took your first breath in this world."

Adelaine scoffed, folding her arms beneath her ample bosom, gun just hanging off of her index finger. "Oh, Ciel, dearie! I could care less about what the _Queen, _of all people, thinks!" She aimed the gun's end at Ciel. "But you remaining alive is obviously still a big problem."

There immediately followed a massive bang. Adelaine's finger was pressed against the trigger; she smiled after she knew what she had just done, but the sadistic gleam in her eyes faded away when she saw that Ciel was indeed alive and that he had just been sheltered by another figure.

"Sebastian, you're in on it too, I see."

The disguised butler picked his master off the floor. He had swept in carried his master from the bullet's path with only a few seconds to spare. He frowned, though, noting that his shirt was torn by the raging bullet. "I apologize, young master. I was slow today."

"Ah, whatever," Ciel replied dismissively. "Just hurry up and deal with Adelaine."

The red-eyed butler nodded, turning to the enraged Irishwoman who still held the gun toward Ciel. Her lips were curved into an ugly frown, but the ends twitched restlessly and then she smiled, emerald eyes filled with an inspired sadism. The barrel of her revolver moved from Ciel's head straight to Avent's lifeless body.

"Make a move and I'll shoot."

"Sebastian, finish her!" came the command and Sebastian shuffled forward and paused briefly, completely stiff, pupils constricted and eyes staring off into the distance far beyond the forest posted behind Adelaine.

"_Sebastian_!"

And that second in which Sebastian faltered passed as centuries do, pierced only by the ringing of an empty chamber.


End file.
